ONI: Section V
by LordDreadSigma
Summary: The infameous Section V is supposed to be bureaucratic oversight...but that's not the case as the remnants of the Prophets' army are hunted down and dealt with by SV's leader Rear Admiral John Shade, his troops, Buck's ODSTs, Noble-6, and a few lost Spartans. Multiple POVs. Language.
1. Head's up

**AN:** This is my _tribute_ to some of Halo's lost souls and forgotten heroes and it will get freaking weird, not ideal for serious Halo fans, this is more for fun.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Halo. Spartan SV-019 Phoenix** is the creation of **DragoLord19D**. Any other characters that are **not** mentioned in the_** Halo** _series, directly or indirectly, are mine. :{)

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Introduction of concept:

While the Master Chief fights in parts unknown ONI's secretive Section V takes command of the cleanup of any remaining mongrel forces still on any intact human worlds. Those worlds left untouched on the very outskirts of our former empire.

The leader of this misunderstood force leads his mix-matched troops; ODST, Spartan Is, IIs, IIIs, and Section Five's own IVs, Covenant traitors, and standard naval personnel, in numerous battles in order to defend the remnants of our colonies. Follow his and their battles on these worlds as they drive out the enemy and carve out a legecy that will never be revealed to anyone except their repalcements...if any of them survive...which given the luck of Shade-117 should be more than a few of them.

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**AN:** I hope you enjoy the actual story when I release it…which shouldn't be that far off now...Click the arrow below for the 'next' chapter, please and thank you.

Long Live -117! and his flash-clone ;{)

-May Dread watch over you-


	2. Admiral Shade: Welcome To Hell

**AN:** So I finally finished the first chapter...don't expect too much from this in terms of that hard hitting Halo feeling, if you want that you'll need to play one of the games or read one of the books. But for those of you who like lax-ish Halo then come aboard...or dive in deep like Buck and his squad...

_**Don't mind the repost, just fixing a few errors.**_

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The war has ended. Humanity still holds onto life. But the remnants of the Prophets' armies still skulk the outskirts of our once great empire. Section V survived the brunt of the losses and still has more than a few ships left. That is why Lord Hood sent us out here, to reclaim any planets that weren't glassed and to save any populations that survived the war...there aren't many, but we aren't going to let them fall.

On one of these planets, Antox, I find myself in a pitched battle with Jiralhanae led forces.

"Sam, how many years have we been doing this?" I look over to the giant Spartan wearing olive drab Sec-V custom Mark VI MJOLNIR armor accented with bright purple.

He's in the middle of unloading two separate rocket launchers on a Wraith but takes the time to indulge my question, "25." His answer is brief as he begins to reload the tubes. It was somewhat hard to believe that it had already been two and a half decades since I pulled him off that Covenant frigate, just narrowly escaping the shields in time before the core went critical.

I smile as more than a bit of nostalgia graces my voice, "Twenty-five years of wiping the floor with Covenant filth...No offense, Captain." I quickly look over to the shangheili Captain Far' Jolug as he disembowels an enemy unggoy with his energy sword.

As the small soldier falls to his knees clutching his stomach the captain looks over to meet my gaze, "None taken, Admiral. I much prefer to think of myself as Shangheili, not Covenant." He discharges several pink crystals from his needler into a very unfortunate mask-breather as he finishes speaking.

"Then Covenant filth it is." At my answer he nods and heads off to assist a squad of marines.

"I still can't believe you convinced Covenant forces to join us." Sam shakes his un-helmeted head as he reloads.

I try not to think back to all of the various enemy combatants I turned over the years, as I remark, "You and me both." I watch the officer leap upon a jiralhanae and drive his energy sword through his chest several times as the marines rally around him and charge further into the fray, wiping out another enemy squad without losing stride.

Sam had also been watching, "Useful bastards, though." And laughs a little as Far takes point using his shield to soak up a little extra damage for his new unit.

I nod, "Indeed…now back to the mongrels' mutts." As I turn my attention to the seeming unending supply of enemy combatants.

Sam looks down at me inquisitively, "What about them?"

I grin as I look up at an enemy flyer, "I'm thinking Banshee Boogie." Which is basically just hijacking a Banshee when it flies low for a strafing pass, then using it to attack the enemy.

"They have a lot of anti-air, you sure that's a good idea?" He motions to the distant anti-air wraiths moving about behind the front.

"When have I ever had a _good_ idea?" I smirk as I reload my battle rifle. The other Section V Spartan II to bare an officer's rank signs to Sam as I pickoff a few more who wandered to close to this sector.

"Randal's right, that whole Sunrise Surprise incident a few years back worked out pretty well." Randall's vocal cords were severely damaged a couple of years ago, but since the Spartan usually used hand-signs anyway, not much changed.

"All my plans workout in the end, it's the beginning and middle that gets a bit…tricky." I grin at the thought of all my interesting tactical choices over the years.

He looks at me deadpan, "You mean crazy?"

"If you see it that way." I wave him off as I notice that Far has lead his little squad into a thicket of enemy forces, but didn't seem to require any real assistance. The enemy had let him get too close...which was always a mistake for the Commander of Section V's Stealth Operations Division.

I catch Randal nodding at something Sam had just said, the speaking Spartan turns to me and nods, "We do, Shade."

"Ghost." I nod to the enemy scout maneuvering from the right over a small hill.

"On it." Sam carefully leads the unfortunate bastard with one of his rocket launchers, for he was never one to waste ammunition. He sent the shaft of steel right into the nose of the purple vessel distributing smoking scrap a hundred yards in front of our position.

"Mgalekgolo." It seems the Ghost was clearing the way for the lumbering behemoths, for out of the smoking wreckage the duo charged with shields leveled.

"Are you going to kill them or recruit 'em?" He smirks with a couple teeth showing.

"We'll see." I raise my rifle and study them, I was actually considering recruiting them…but given that they were Loyalist it would be a near impossible task to turn them, so begrudgingly I give Sam the order to fire.

"Speaking of which, where are the Triple Duce?" As he's taking aim he inquiries to the location of my personal security force, three pairs of bond-mates.

After all four projectiles are away I answer, "Reinforcing the left flank." I rarely used them outside of scaring the hell out of new recruits, so they were given free range to destroy the enemy at their leisure.

"You need a tube?" He begins reloading the twin tubes again as he asks. He always had a knack for when I was about to move off.

"No, I think I'll fall back for once and use a sniper rifle." I point back to a high hill with a good vantage of most of this sector's fighting. I took the advice of my battle brother and decided against the banshee hijacking...for now.

"Finally missing your armor?" The giant smiles as he rises resting each tube on their respective shoulders. His reference was to the fact that I had switched from my old SV variant of the MJOLNIR armor in favor of a modified ODST model, it had a little flare with twin forearm shields and a limited cloak…plus was significantly lighter when it came to vehicles. Trust me when I say it's a shit load easier for a mongoose to take a hill or for a hornet to maneuver if one of the occupants doesn't weigh an extra half-ton.

"Finally realizing that an admiral shouldn't be on the front line." I return the smile.

Abandoning the rockets after expending his last rounds into a few clusters of unggoy, he favors the battle rifle Randal hands him as he asks, "Beam or…?"

I shake my head as I keep up with the mid-range sniping, "Actually, I think I'd prefer something human."

Sam chuckles, "Amusing considering all the Covenant tech you use." He was right, for years I had always preferred Covenant weapons for their effectiveness, but when it came to ranged offense the UNSC gave me pure gold with the SRS99D-S2 AM, a personal favorite.

He cleans out a squad of unggoy with two bursts, then looks over at me, "Well, don't shoot us."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Captain, Commander." I nod to both of them before moving toward a warthog that was approaching the battlefield just to my left. I waved them over.

As the hog pulls up beside me I point to the ridge, "Corporal, I need a lift to that ridge."

"Well then hop in, sir." A sergeant dismounts the passenger seat and hops in back with the gunner.

"Thanks, Kale." As I leap in I nod to the fellow veteran, despite only knowing a little about him...we had still been through more than a few of the same engagements…38 and counting.

He grins as he barks at the driver, "You heard the admiral, Corporal, let's get this heap up that hill." Then slams the side with his fist.

"Yes, sir." Before the 'heap' could climb the hill several drop pods pounded the ground a few hundred yards into Covenant held territory.

I grit my teeth, "Corporal, change course. We're going to give those ODSTs a little support."

I hear the sergeant preparing for our charge as the corporal answers, "Yes, sir." And turns the hog toward no-man's-land, or at least what was no-mans-land about two hours ago.

Not twenty seconds after changing course I motion for the corporal to pull up to a very familiar duo.

"Need some backup?" Sam smirks as he looks over toward the drop-zone.

"Always, Sam." The Spartan duo leap into the back, choking the chain-gun as they fill out the available space. The hog roars across the plain toward the drop zone, before long we are joined by four other warthogs and five ghost escorts, as well as a pilfered brute chopper manned by an unggoy of all things.

Sam, Randal, and I disembark at the nearest pod as the hogs roar past and provide cover while the ODSTs regroup. The unggoy rolls over a few unfortunate bastards that weren't quite quick enough, I hear his maniacal laughter over the comm. I couldn't help but grin for the little SoB as he released years of oppression on the poor sods.

Sam rips off the door. The inhabitant obviously tried to open the door with force at the same time Sam ripped it off, for consequently he carried his momentum and fell forward. I helped him to his feet as Sam began sniping the approaching enemy.

"Thanks for the assist…Sir!" His voice bares the standard reverence for my rank, once his eyes meet the two stars.

I hand him my battle rifle as I notice his ID, "No problem…Buck, I was in the area... Actually this is my battlefield, so why are you here?" I retrieve his SMG and begin using it as my own as we move around the drop-pod.

"Lord Hood sent us as reinforcements." We hunker down behind the next pod as sever pink crystals lodge in the front. Most of the surviving ODST had also taken up position behind their pods.

I look over to Buck, "Seeing as I just saved your asses I don't think I need the help."

"Sorry, sir. Where do you need us?"

He's eager to fight and that I can use, but I have to fuck with him, "You're assuming I won't dismiss you from the field for this little distraction."

Before he can say anything a delightful female voice fills the comm, "Shade, we've got two scarabs incoming." Unmistakably Vanguard, the AI for Colonel Roland, the marine commander.

"What was that about the Banshee Boogie?" I look over at Sam.

"…God must really want you dead." He shakes his head as we begin to fall back from this death trap of an open field. The surviving hogs and ghosts pick a few troops up as they go…we aren't amongst them, we hoof it. But I can still hear an unggoy screaming as it seems to continue avoiding enemy fire and rolling over ground infantry in its chopper. I wished him luck...in this life and the next.

"Like how he wanted our brothers and sisters." I suppose it's time to tell you that I'm the Shadow Spartan, the one and only ever produced by Section V. But I share all my DNA with a Spartan II, I am his flash-clone. So when a Spartan, regardless of generation or variation, falls...that's my family falling, and I don't take kindly to that shit. I'm a freak to the core, which explains why I'm a seven-foot tall admiral with a rather nice tan and a suit of custom MJOLNIR armor aboard my flagship, _Love of Death. _I am the product of Fate's fickle intervention, for whatever reason I don't know...what I do know is that I have a duty to serve until I can't breathe anymore, because in truth I'm supposed to be dead anyway.

I refocus my mind, "Must be a Spartan thing." Sam has considered me a brother and a true Spartan ever since I saved his ass all them years ago.

"We do seem to attract death…" I turn to the ODSTs, "Speaking of Spartans, you guys don't have a problem…Let me rephrase that; You guys **aren't** going to have a problem working with Spartans, are you?" I stare at Buck deadeye, I know the history with Spartans and ODST and I frankly don't give a shit for their attitude toward the hardest working soldiers to ever grace the battlefield.

"Didn't know there were any left." Buck smirks…but I see that he'll do what is necessary to win.

"You'd be surprised how many we've…_acquired_." I motion to Sam and Randal.

"That's a strange way of saying 'busted **your** ass saving us'." Sam slams me in the shoulder with his free hand as he laughs. I smile as rub the impact spot…I'm a Spartan, but I'm not wearing MJOLNIR armor, just my modified ODST combat after-all...

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**AN:** So that wasn't too bad, was it?

I may continue regarless of reviews unless there is an overwhelming desire for me to stop all together. I'll probably re-post again if I notice a grievous error or just want to improve it.

-May Dread watch over you-


	3. Noble6: Spartans Don't Die

**AN: ** Alright, well this story will follow the perspective of different soldiers during their service in Section V. Some of these will be brief, while others will last throughout the story… I do hope you enjoy…

** Just fixin' a few minor errors.**

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Noble Six:

I am the last member of Team Noble, Spartan-B312, but my call sign is simply Noble. I should have died on Reach with the others. It should have been my grave…

_Reach, August 30 2552: _

_As I lay there, vision fading…body aching from numerous plasma rounds, I was about to be impaled by an elite's energy sword… But instead the tip of another energy sword plunged out of the front of his head, his blood spilling on my exposed face as he was cast aside. Standing over me was an elite…but his armor was olive drab with bright purple…and there was a UNSC insignia. _

_I closed my eyes for a second to regain my focus…I was blending information, confusing facts. My attempt to clear my mind failed, for the elite was still there…killing other elites, he danced across them as he wielded twin swords. The glowing light slashing about was all that I could see as my vision faded to black…_

_For a brief second I awaken inside a…I don't know…it wasn't a pelican, but it felt like one…it jerked like we were flying, but it was alien, purple…Covenant. I opened my eyes a little more and standing around me were humans, marines…but there were also…grunts and that same elite. He grinned at me as he nodded. Then my mind slipped again to black… _

_Next I awoke in a strange infirmary, there was purple…Covenant, but there was also human medical equipment, being operated by human medical personnel. However they were treating both human and Covenant forces…I tried to move, but found my bare arms and legs bound to the bed. Before I could struggle an elite approached…it was the same one from before, or at least I assumed he was._

"_Those were made to hold Petty Officer Sorren, Spartan -066, lieutenant. I doubt there is a Spartan alive that can break them, especially without your armor." He chuckled. _

_He raised an armored hand, "Before you ask, this is a joint operations force, I'm not your enemy…I'm actually your equal, Lieutenant Samer'Rol Section Five Battalion One." I try to process what the hell he was talking about 'joint operations force'…but my head began to pound._

"_Maybe you should rest a little more, Lieutenant. You'll be properly debriefed once the doctor clears you." He hits a button near the bed…it was a sedative, I lose consciousness once again._

_9Dread9_

_No one else spoke to me until the chief medical officer, Dr. Ramirez as her tag stated, cleared me for my debriefing. Once the order was cleared with the doctor I was given basic fatigues and escorted to the bridge by a pair of humans in sleek black armor, they both carried energy swords and plasma rifles at their sides as they each wielded a standard battle rifle. I wasn't sure if they were for my protection…or more likely the Covenant crew that we occasionally passed as we wended through the purple halls. The grunts and jellyfish creatures seemed to not fear me in the least as they simply continued their work…as if I were just another part of this crew._

_The only one to even acknowledge my existence was __**the**__ elite 'lieutenant', as he joined us, "It's good to see that you're up already, Lieutenant."_

_I grit my teeth, "Is it?" I see no logical reason why I should be having a civil conversation with an elite, the creatures responsible for billions of deaths…including Noble team._

"_One more Spartan for the fight is certainly not a negative." I cast my eyes over him, taking in the armor. It was not quite like the other Covenant armors…it was sleeker, yet it had several plates located over vital areas that looked far more human in design. The human additions didn't seem to limit the wear's movement in the least, the overall style actually seemed to allow for less restricted movement than the others. That made it a little easier to find a weakness…but without my armor…_

_He interrupts my thoughts, "Trying to access my weaknesses? Or are you trying to imitate the IIs?"_

_I smirk, "Does it have to be a choice?"_

_He smiles, "Certainly not, Lieutenant." His casual nature was unnerving…I felt like he was going to strike at any moment, but his relaxed stance contradicted that assessment. It was sickening to have to even be before him and not be killing him…_

_Again I'm drawn from my thoughts, "…And we're here. Good Luck, the Captain's a real hard-ass." He chuckles a bit as he steps to open the door leading to the bridge._

"_Is he human?" Given my circumstances I felt his answer might provide intel as to what I should expect, so I ask despite my misgivings._

_He grins, "No. …Spartan." He laughed heartily as he proceeded ahead of us. This whole situation was disturbingly foreign…even for a Spartan._

_Standing on the bridge I looked out at a hodgepodge of various Covenant forces and humans operating the controls, replacing or repairing equipment and paneling, or guarding the staff as they worked. Overlooking the bridge was a large Spartan towering over his direct subordinates as he issued orders. He too was wearing olive drab with bright purple…it was MJOLNIR, but the patterns match the elites armor to a tee. _

"_If you're wondering about the color of our armor…" I concentration on him as he remains focused on a data-pad, "It's Shade's idea of a joke." He looks over to meet my gaze._

"_Sir." I stand at attention._

_He sighed heavily, "…I hate doing this. …John's usually the one to bring in Spartans." He sighs again with traces of annoyance on his face, "But that can't be helped…I'm Captain Samuel, Commander of Section Five's Combat Division."_

_I consider my introduction, "…Noble, sir." And decide that I'll carry the will of my fallen team._

_He pauses before he nods, "…I understand, Noble. And I'd like to welcome you to Section Five." He proceeded to explain…everything about Section V and how I was its newest asset. As a Spartan I accepted my new post, pushing aside my reservations about the mixed crew…for now._

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Present:

I shake my head as I focus on the enemy installation, designated 'Tango Marco', before me. I contact my superior, Colonel Rolland, "Ma'am, we've arrived at the enemy base."

The confirmation is quick, "…Proceed."

"Yes, ma'am." I motion for the platoon to maneuver into position. Standing on a ridge to the north of the covenant facility I observe the other units moving into position in the east.

I contact the Spartan in charge of the eastern units, "Soren, are you in position?"

SII -066 Soren responds with an eager, "Yes, we're ready. Just say the word." One of the few things I knew about him was that he was once a rejected Spartan, until the Admiral removed his gnarled limbs and replaced them with artificial ones developed using Covenant tech.

"…On my mark…" I wait for the sniper teams to reposition to get a better angle on the enemy officers before I give the order, "Fire!" Nine shots ring out as nine corresponding brute officers fall to the ground lifeless. Before any of their squads can register their fallen leaders, SV-178 Moto and SV-179 Mosef let loose a spray of fuel-rod rockets on the turret defenses at the eastern perimeter, the cascading series of explosions sends several grunts and jackals flying into the air.

Soren leads the charge into the breach, using his custom-built oversized armor to soak up the incoming fire from the enemy units not killed by the rocket attack or sniper fire. As he draws the fire the snipers and support teams level the enemy with precision shooting and burst fire.

The sniper teams move around the perimeter sniping any target they can see as I lead the second strike team into an opening to the north. With the distraction to the east my team slips in relatively unnoticed, after we pick off the few guards that remained. We proceed with our priority objective being intel on the enemy's actions on this planet and our second objective is the destruction of this compound.

We glide through the halls heading to the most likely location for a command center. We meet little resistance as we proceed deeper in. The marines that make up my unit are surprisingly fast given that they were carrying a significant amount of high explosives.

One of the marines, a gunnery sergeant, takes notice of my attention, "AEGIS mark III armor, sir. It has a dialed down effect of the MJOLNIR armor." At his words I take in the armor, which seemed unimpressive at first, but does have a similar design to my own armor.

"I was unaware they made a lesser MJOLNIR for standard forces." Considering the expense of the II and III versions of the armor, I'm not sure it would be economical to mass produce even a weaker version for the standard forces.

He gladly offers, "Only for the Spartan special tactical forces, sir. We're the best the marines have to offer, so they stuck us in these things to assist Spartan units."

"Good, I was worried you wouldn't be able to keep up."

"This isn't our first run with a Spartan, sir. This particular unit was Captain Samuel's." He takes a fair bit of pride in that…which I suppose he does have a right to.

Wordlessly I picked up my pace as we moved nearer to the command camber.

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Shade:

After falling back out of no-man's-land we regroup behind the main body of our assault force. As soon as I turn to look back at enemy territory I receive a transmission from Captain Vor'louh, "Admiral, we've got a Wraith division at the lower plains, but…"

I recalled the terrain from strategy meeting, "High hills and plasma mortars aren't exactly a friendly combination?"

"No, sir." As he answers I can make out the sound of a plasma shell slamming into the ground.

I swiftly look over to our newest acquisitions, "Buck, I'm going to need you guys to clear out some Wraiths and anything else they have on the lower plains. Can you handle it?"

His eyes look over to a team of Spartans and shangheili moving off with a few rockets, "Do we get backup?" Him requesting Spartan assistance, albeit indirectly, was surprising to say the least given that he was an ODST.

But fighting my mild shock I look back at the armored giant known as my second in command, "Sam, feel like dodging plasma?"

He laughs…then looks at me dead, "As long as you don't."

I chuckle as summon a warthog, "Really? One more stay in the infirmary and I get a free surgery."

He narrows his vision, "…And no using yourself as a targeting beacon for artillery fire." He seemed to be going down the list of my most brilliant ideas…

But I wanted to get away from that territory or we'd be here all day, "…Just don't get killed. Friends are getting harder to find with each battle." My voice takes a much more somber tone than I would have liked, but I can't help remember the sheer number of soldiers that have been lost in this senseless endeavor…I'm snapped back by Sam's own somber tone,

"Understood, John." At that very moment I looked up to the sky and wondered where in the galaxy my pale twin was.

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**AN:** So, opinions…suggestions?

Next time you'll be introduced to a Spartan IV…she's all kinds of fun. (sinister grin)

-May Dread watch over you-


	4. Spartan SV019: Rise of the Phoenix

**AN:** The warning label that comes with this story is Language…if only because of Phoenix.

**Disclaimer:** I've already done this, but just in case you skipped it. **I do not own Halo or any of its characters.** **Phoenix** is the creation of **DragoLord19D**. However any **other** characters are mine.

So…I had no idea whatsoever that there were already Spartan-IVs (apparently _**Halo4**_ and _**Grasslands**_?)…However I will not rewrite my story to fit this new discovery. I will barrel ahead as planned, for this is fanfic after all. Plus my IVs kick ass. ;{)

**If** this is a repost for you it's to correct minor errors, otherwise read on...

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Spartan IV -019 Phoenix:

I'm Phoenix…that's it. …Unless you want me to shove my nozzle up your ass and cook your insides, god damn annoying bastards. _'Phoenix, there is no reason to be so rude._' Fuck you and your prissy accent. …Oh and that would be my 'smart' AI babysitter Wildfire, he's the bitchiest AI in existence. _'I resent that.' _Like I give two fucks.

Fine…I'm a Spartan IV…Yes, there are more than just those pansy-ass two-bit disposable bitches called IIIs. *snort* I was born on Aries, if you've never heard of it then that's because it 'doesn't' exist, comprende, putas?_ 'Phoenix, please show some more decorum. I'm sure they are mindful of these details prior to reading these records.'_ Yeah right, these dick swallowing fucks don't know shit, that's why they're even bothering with this. _'I apologize for her attitude…but it is who she is, so you will have to endure as I have._' Damn straight, pussies.

…Alright, I'm a member of the first generation of IV, that means I'm the most likely to show you your fucking insides before I kill you. _'She means they are the most experienced since they have five years seniority to the second generation of Spartan IVs.'_ I thought they were supposed to already be privy to that intel, sir never-shuts-the-fuck-up. *silence*

…There isn't much about me that's any different from the others…other than my weapon of choice, flame-thrower, and…my attitude, which I'm told is terrible. But what the fuck do I care if the others avoid me…we're here to kill the enemy, not hold hands and sing Kumbaya… _'I highly doubt the others wish to sing camp-fire songs.'_ But you can't be sure can you, fucker? _'No, I can't.'_ *laughter*

_9Dread9_

"Ma'am, you alright?" Corporal Mamore asks me as I'm leaning on one of the warthogs that got us to the south of the Covenant facility marked… _'Tango Marco.'_ I would have gotten it, ass-hat. _'I'm fully aware.'_ *snarling*

Looking down at the marine I step my cherry red MJOLNIR-SV custom Mark VII armor covered ass forward, "Fine, corporal. Just catching a few winks before we have a barbeque." I check my torch…my flamer not my flashlight, fucking tea drinkers.

"Yes, ma'am." He nods as he and the others prepare their torches as well… I love being surrounded by pyros, at least they understand the thrill of turning scorching flame on the enemy. Cooking them, hearing them scream in pain…I love it. '_A bit too much I fear.'_ There's no such thing as too much for those fuckers.

We wait for Noble to give the signal. We're supposed to be his exit distraction…and I seriously doubt those Covenant fucks will have even a hair of attention for the lieutenant once we light-up… *devilish laughter* _'Oh dear.'_

* * *

**Wildfire:**

With Phoenix preparing for the lieutenant's signal I believe it is my duty to enlighten you in regards to some of the things discussed that may seem perplexing.

Aries is the home-world of all participants of the Spartan IV program, which was technically started in 2530 before the Spartan III program was initiated in 2532 by members of Section III… however due to a unique circumstance involving the age of the participants in Section V's project and when those subjects actually started training to be Spartans, which I will address shortly, the project name was altered to IV to prevent any form of confusion in the future. …The world of Aries will not appear in any database primarily because it doesn't exist as far as in terms of any known star chart, for it rests outside of UNSC space. Far from the conflicts that constituted the war Aries was untouched by Covenant forces…which given its defensive capabilities nearly equaling Reach's it is probable that it would not have been the most unproblematic target to neutralize.

Regardless this world contains the SIV training facility, Forge's Pillar …as well as numerous factories and laboratories used for manufacturing and researching various weapons and equipment for Section V's various operations. Being both completely autonomous, in terms of the special projects division, and self-sufficient allows Section V to perform its various illicit operations without attracting the attention of Section 0. This necessity is due to the fact that Section V is not permitted to be carrying out any operations other than bureaucratic oversight, relaying any abnormalities in requested appropriations or finances…which I find amusing, given that the department that is responsible for authenticating budget reports and requisitions inside ONI doesn't use its position to simply alter its own reports in order to acquire the finances or equipment for their various operations. _'That's because not even the stupidest fuck in the UNSC wouldn't find a few hundred billion dollars' worth of equipment and resources going to a God Damned oversight branch odd.'_

Ah, you're…listening in? _'Yeah, you prattling dick, I thought it would only be fair given all the fucking times you eavesdropped on me.'_ Yes, I see. _'Don't act like I didn't just catch you with your dick in Lord Hood's daughter's pussy.'_ I…I'm not exactly sure how to respond to that statement. _'Good, now either shut the fuck up or continue schooling these fucks on my family.'_ …Very well.

…The purposes for Section V's illegal actions are classified by Admiral John Shade. _'Yep, and just try getting him to talk…he'd rather be raped by a jiralhanae… 'f course he'd probably rip it's dick off and beat it to death with it…hahahahaa.'_ I'm glad you are thoroughly amused, but I'm certain the admiral is also providing intel for the records. _'…You think?'_ Yes. _'Then never mind about that rape/dick ripping thing…still funny as fuck though.' _Yes, it's truly a 'hoot'…now may I resume? _'Fine with me.'_

Spartan IVs are unique amongst the members of the Spartan programs given that the subjects are physically manipulated in utero in order to turn what could have been a normal child into a subject that would meet Dr. Halsey's parameters for her Spartan II program. This was implemented as a result of the limited number of available candidates that naturally met these set parameters, in concurrence with the decreasing population as a direct result of the Covenant's genocidal tactics. _'What sir uses-big-ass-fucking-words is saying is that S II candidates are super rare so they had to make us to meet the same standard.' _Yes, that's what I just conveyed. _'Yeah, but mine wasn't filled with big fucking words.'_

I think it would be best if we stopped now. _'But we haven't gotten to the part about how we all get saddled with one of you prissy ass AIs…no, how I got saddled with one while the others got normal AIs that don't sound like a fucking…' _Phoenix! I may be able to take your constant stream of insults, but please show some decorum at least this once. _'…Well, since you asked so nicely just this once I'll shut the fuck up and get back to prep work.'_ Thank you. _'Yeah-yeah, you dick swallowing fuck.'_ I apologize for her, please do not think any lesser of the other Spartan IVs, she is a special case…and I cannot in good conscience discuss the reason for her attitude. That is her story to tell when she decides to convey it. Farewell for now…and please don't despise her for her poor choice in vocabulary, you do get used to it…unfortunately it requires time.

* * *

**Shade:**

Having deployed Sam and one of the ODST squads to aid Captain Vor'louh in dealing with the wraith problem to the far left flank (the chances are there's something valuable in that area or else they would have deployed onto the main stage to repel our advance) I headed back to the ridge to get a better feel for the battle.

As I ascended to a high ledge above the makeshift road, we'd carved out, I'm greeted by a S-IV in jet black MJOLNIR-SV Mark VII armor with a limited production SV custom DSRS100A-AM/B (Dual Sniper Rifle System 100A- Anti-Materiel, Beam…) The hardware had a special over-under twin barrel design; the lower barrel is a slightly altered .461 caliber UNSC rifle barrel, and the upper barrel is a modified 'light' beam rifle. With the flip of a switch you go from the heavy eight round per clip punch of the UNSC to the lightning 15 round strike of the Covenant. Overheating is still a bit of an issue though, hence limited run. But more than doubling your available ammo without reloading is a bonus too good to simply pass up.

Wordlessly she hands me an older model SRS99C-S2 AM and three clips. It seems she expected the limited run special to malfunction, or she knew I'd find myself up here… SVb-117 was far from stupid after all.

Having settled in prone, I scan the field in low zoom searching for a very specific target, "Kaila, do you have a bead on him yet?"

The 17 year old second generation IV answers with a gracing of irritation, "No, he keeps bobbing about." I myself couldn't get much more than a few quick glimpses of his helmet or hammer before he was gone again behind the debris from a few wrecked warthogs, brute choppers, hornets, and even a pelican.

Without any luck in getting a clean shot I decide to take out a few other jiralhanae, "That's a Chieftain for you, too rude to sit still for his photo."

She snorts, "Yeah, he's like a kid on picture day." At her words I pull my head back and think about how amusing that statement is given her own experiences with 'picture day' back at Forge's Pillar on Aries.

Shaking the memories from my mind I stand, "Well, let's see if this _clown_ can't get him to sit still for his close-up."

Setting the sniper rifle down I retrieve the SMG and begin to descend while she asks, "Sir?"

Already half-way to the road I speak into the com, "Keep me covered…and don't hesitate." The last part wasn't really necessary, for Kaila was the finest sniper in Section V despite her age, and would never miss an opportunity to neutralize a dangerous target.

She sighs into the mic, "…Understood, sir." Her and Sam had a similar mentality when it came to me gracing the front …they hated it. I laugh to myself as I move toward the target as fast as I can…dropping any enemy's I see en route.

The front-line of the battlefield had become a jagged line arcing back and forth across this tiny stretch of Antox, marking how it had become all too common for more capable units, like those led by a chieftain, to advance beyond the other units. I'm sure Rolland was planning something to reform the line and bring some order back to what was quickly devolving into a chaotic clusterfuck. I chose her as the head of the Marine and main body groundside forces because she is damn good at field command, which is why the allied Covenant prefer to call her 'field marshal'…I'm a little surprised she hasn't requested golden armor to mark herself as such.

Shaking those thoughts from my head I catch an unggoy in to face with a spray from my borrowed SMG, laughing I bring my knee to meet the skull of another that decided to waddle out from behind a lone boulder. Unfortunately, that only made me wonder more about the state of this assault, so I decided to alleviate my concerns, "Colonel Rolland, this is Shade."

There is only a brief pause before the veteran answers, "Sir?"

"Have you seen the battle-line?" I ask frankly without slowing my pace toward my objective.

She answers swiftly, "I'm aware, sir. We're trying to lure them back against the cliffs. Upon a further analysis by the _Winnipeg's_ deep ground mapping systems the crust should be thick enough for us to use the lighter MACs and any plasma weapons we desire, sir." In order to not destabilize the abnormally thin crust beneath the enemy's position we have refrained from using any type of high impact weapons (this is for the safety of whatever invaluable tech they are trying to pilfer from what is highly likely a Forerunner world, as well as protect the land of is potential a new human colony world). We have also refrained from the use of plasma weapons primarily because those ships are currently engaging the enemy ships, the advantages of our six Covenant vessels are best used in the vacuum.

"Would've been nice to know that sooner…but I did put you in charge of this engagement so resume to command as you see fit, Colonel." …My rank as rear admiral is well earned in more than a few engagements, but like wise commanders before me I will gladly defer to one whose skill out matches my own, and Rolland is unquestionably my better in terms of strategy.

"Yes, sir. But I shall remember to keep you apprised of any further developments of this magnitude, sir." As she assures me that I will remain in the loop I grab a near empty needler from a fallen allied unggoy, grabbing his ID tag as well.

"Carry on then." With my mind a little more at ease I near the location of the chieftain and his units.

Taking cover behind a scraped hornet I peer out to see if I can calculate the angle Kaila will need to drop this pesky bastard. Given the number of supporting troops accompanying him I wasn't too keen on simply charging out and getting my ass filled full of spikes, so I was more than happy to let the young Spartan kill 'em from afar.

Prepping a plasma grenade, my personal favorite, I wait for him to near a desired spot. Once he stands right in an opt location I step out of cover and shout at the mongrel beast, "Hey, ugly, why don't you try killing the Prophet of War." Before hurling the grenade right at his feet and slipping back behind the wreckage. Some allied unggoy call me the 'Prophet of War' because of humans being the true inheritors of forerunner tech and me being such a nightmare on the battlefield, a prophet they can truly follow to War.

Once the explosion drops his shield he begins to bellow, "Blasphe…" But is cut off by a .461 caliber round penetrating then liquefying his already addled brain.

With his body slumping to the ground I give praise to the sniper, "Excellent shot, Kaila." And await his forces to charge my location. For as they do they find out just how good the sniper on the bluff really is. The twenty jiralhanae that decided to break from the cover of the pelican to attack me find themselves limp on the ground with a fair bit of their brains fertilizing the grass.

With the last one in the open down she replies, "Thank you, sir. You've got one coming around the righ…" And tries to warn me about one that tried to slip around the other side, hoping to flank me…but he found himself with a spray of lead dropping his shield and the rest of the pink crystals from the needler logged in his face.

With her warning pointless she corrects, "Never mind."

Chuckling I offer, "I'm still a Spartan, Kaila." Despite me being an admiral and spending a little too much time in the infirmary I still have my 'family's' combat awareness and don't get surprised by the enemy that often.

"Of course, sir." She offers as she drops another two mongrels.

Taking notice of an approaching aggressor already spraying my cover with fire I make a request, "Do you think you can take care of a Ghost?"

There is a brief pause before the ghost's driver falls from the craft as it slows to a halt, "Easy shot." There is only a trace of bravado in her voice.

Laughing I state, "I'm glad I recruited you."

She happily corrects me, "You mean had sex with my mother, sir?" Her mother was a naval surgeon aboard a vessel that fell a decade before Reach.

Her blasé tone is hardly new but still causes me a brief pause before I answer, "…Well, that is _usually_ how one begins the miracle of life." Considering I'm a flash clone, I do like to think of myself as the one exception to human reproduction. And yes, unlike with the other Spartans the Catalytic Thyroid Implant didn't suppress my sex-drive…however there is a minor growth on my thyroid that is most likely responsible for this development. But since so far it seems perfectly benign it's staying right where it is.

In a very non Spartan tone she casually states, "I'm not complaining, I like existing." Before dropping a few kig-yar and another jiralhanae. Pride is a word that is permanently attached to my thoughts of my daughter, and I doubt that'll ever change.

* * *

**AN:** Yes, I gave the admiral a daughter. **Skip this if you don't care**: but this is the argument for how Shade has a kid: _The suppression of the Spartan sex-drive is a byproduct of another procedure used to accelerate the Spartan's growth…but given that Shade is a flash-clone riddled with odd mutations here and there it wouldn't be inconceivable for his body to adapt a bypass for the procedure's side-effects and have an active sex-drive… Theoretically it wouldn't be inconceivable for the same thing to happen, over time, to the other Spartans as well, given the incredible regenerative feats of the human body, or in this case the super-human body._ Just a thought.

**Anyway,** next time you'll read from the Rookie's POV.

-May Dread watch over you- and provide you with an extra clip.


End file.
